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<title>letting people down is my thing (i don't have the right name or the right looks) by leifstroganoff</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687461">letting people down is my thing (i don't have the right name or the right looks)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/leifstroganoff/pseuds/leifstroganoff'>leifstroganoff</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, Philosophy, Self-Esteem Issues, but mostly headcanon based in regards to backstory but it is canon compliant, but the fic is abt leif not either of those and theyre not like Actual Things, coder bfs and/or zeif if you absolutely squint, idk what to tell you i've read a lot of plato in the last two days</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:59:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,153</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687461</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/leifstroganoff/pseuds/leifstroganoff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Magnesia</i> (n). An almost perfect city. Second best. Never quite enough.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>letting people down is my thing (i don't have the right name or the right looks)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>idk what to tell you i had a philosophy exam today and my brain did things</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Leif read Plato’s <em>Laws </em>his sophomore year of college in a gened political philosophy class. At the time, he had hated it - it was wordy and it gave him a headache to read, even with his verbose vocabulary. He never quite got it out of his head. </p><p>Plato defined the perfect city as Kallipolis, literally translated as beautiful city. It held every ideal that Plato believed to be important for a functioning, healthy civilization. Plato also believed this was unachievable (Leif doesn’t know whether or not he agrees).</p><p>So, Plato compromised. He wrote what he thought would be <em>manageable</em>, what he thought would be the closest possible thing to Kallipolis, the perfect city.</p><p><em>Magnesia. </em>Just a step below. An almost perfect city. Second best. Never quite enough. </p><p>He thought of it when he got the call that his younger brother got into Harvard while he sat in his dorm room at Stanford. He didn’t even wanna go to Harvard, he was <em>happy </em>at Stanford, so he couldn’t quite pin why it felt like his heart was sinking. </p><p>Regardless, he stuck $20 into a ‘congratulations’ card and stuck it in the mail, pushing the pit in his stomach to the back of his mind. </p><p>He thought of it when his senior year girlfriend dumped him during exam week of fall semester and he had to force himself not to think about it long enough to pass. He <em>failed </em>and thought about it <em>constantly </em>anyways, but he did pass his exams (with <em>flying</em> <em>colors</em>, mind you) and that made him feel marginally better until he saw her less than a week later kissing one of their mutual friends in the dining hall.</p><p>
  <em>Almost perfect. Second best. Never quite enough. </em>
</p><p>He thought of it when he got the invitation to his youngest brother’s wedding and he couldn’t help but think <em>‘shouldn’t that be me? Shouldn’t I be the first one making these life steps?’. </em></p><p>A part of him hoped his parents would disapprove. <em>He’s too young. He’s moving too fast. Didn’t he just start med school? </em>But him and his parents have never been on the same page and they welcomed his fiancée, <em>Julia, </em>with open arms, ushering Jude forward into this wonderful, new part of his life. </p><p>Leif went to the wedding, got drunk at the reception, and flew home the next day.</p><p>
  <em>Almost perfect. Second best. Never quite enough. </em>
</p><p>Another reading from that class stuck with him even further. <em>Gorgias. </em></p><p>The reading itself was wordy and confusing and everything that philosophy is hated for, but Leif devoured it. It was the first reading in that class that made him actually like philosophy. While the moral teachings aspect of philosophy appealed to him, he found himself much more drawn to the fact that it was trying to answer a question that burned inside him - <em>what’s the point? What are we trying to do here, in this absolute mess of a life?</em></p><p>When he arrived at SPRQpoint, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, he thought of the perfectly filled jar that Plato described in Gorgias. Filled to the brim, sealed tightly, <em>perfect</em>. If nowhere else in his life, <em>here </em>he would be that jar. </p><p>And for a while, he was that jar. He wanted too much and he knew it, but he was okay with pretending for a while. He was okay with small smiles and thumbs ups and coffee runs when no one else wanted to go. </p><p>One question philosophy never answered for him was whether or not he was <em>good. </em>It’s not like he really expected to find that answer in the dense readings of Plato or Aristotle that had been shoved into one semester of a class he’d taken roughly six years ago now, but he would always wonder if he could call himself a good person. </p><p>It’s not that he didn’t do good things (or <em>try </em>to do good things, anyways), but are good deeds really good deeds if you’re only doing them to prove to other people that you’re good? He’s not sure how much of him is good and how much of him is <em>a performance, </em>meant to sell himself to the people around him.</p><p>Somewhere along the way, he realized he loved Tobin. It wasn’t a big revelation, or even a surprising one to him, but at some point, he sat down and thought; <em>‘this is the guy I couldn’t live without’. </em></p><p>He didn’t tell him. He <em>couldn’t </em>tell him, really. Not for a physical inability, but the thought of Tobin rejecting him, of feeling awkward around him but being too nice to pull away, not completely, to be on the edge of Tobin’s life, hanging on to the relationship they once had, of having to see Tobin find someone better, getting closer to them, liking them more made him sick to his stomach and he stopped himself before he could even think of telling Tobin how he felt. </p><p>
  <em>Almost perfect. Second best. Never quite enough. </em>
</p><p>Tobin was far too important to him to risk it. </p><p>Eventually, the facade of the first jar cracked. He wanted a promotion, he didn’t get it, he moped, he tried to move on. </p><p>He got his first real criticism at SPRQPoint and no matter how much it rang true, he couldn’t make himself face it head on, choosing instead to shift blame and start chucking stones from inside his perfectly comfortable glass house. </p><p>At every corner, it felt like he was failing. </p><p>
  <em>Almost perfect. Second best. Never quite enough. </em>
</p><p>It was when he was talking to Joan at Simon’s engagement party that he had to confront the second jar. The first jar was filled to the brim, sealed perfectly, no flaws. Contained and content and satisfied. The <em>second </em>jar Plato described was being filled with a sieve, spilling over the edges, holes riddling the glass. It was technically being filled, but it would never be full. No matter how much it took, it would never be done, never be satisfied.</p><p>Looking at his boss over the conference table and genuinely considering the <em>pros and cons </em>of seducing her was when he really had to confront it. After all this time of convincing himself that he could be the first jar, satisfied and perfect and easy to look at, he was forced to be honest with himself. He was the second jar. Hungry and wanting, always taking and taking and taking and taking and never would he be full, never would he be satisfied or <em>perfect </em>or <em>easy to look at. </em></p><p>Secondarily, if he were to admit what he’s known for so long now, he’d also have to confront another shortcoming; if he was the second jar, Zoey was the first. If he was <em>magnesia, </em>Zoey was his <em>Kallipolis</em>. Never comparable, always slightly ahead of him. </p><p>
  <em>Almost perfect. Second best. Never quite enough. </em>
</p><p>When his lips collided with Joan’s, he figured he might as well accept it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>comments would be extra appreciated on this one bc its kind of outside of what i usually do?? but also blows kiss ty for reading!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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